


Johnny

by oh_johnny



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:23:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_johnny/pseuds/oh_johnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a repost of a fic originally posted in the lj comm johnheartpaul.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Johnny

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a fic originally posted in the lj comm johnheartpaul.

“Oh god, yes, yes…”

“Unh, oh shit, shit, just…soon…”

Bodies moving together, hard cocks rubbing against each other, teeth nipping, tongues licking, mouths tasting, hands roaming, up and down, friction building heat and tension, harder, faster…

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m gonna…”

“Oh. God. Johnny!”

Coming on each other’s bellies, collapsing into each other, post-orgasmic solitude, eyes closed, breathing calming, bodies still..

Then…

“Johnny?”

“What?”

“You called me Johnny.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Do you mind?”

“No. It just took me by surprise, is all. You called me Johnny as you came…like it was a special name…just for that.”

“Would you prefer Sugarlips? Honey Pie? Snookums?”

John snorted a laugh and rolled off Paul, reaching for the cigarettes. He lit one for himself and one for Paul, and they lay beside each other smoking.

“Nobody calls me Johnny,” said John after a while.

“Well it wasn’t exactly planned, John. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, you with your teeth in my throat, hands on my ass. I won’t do it again if it bothers you.”

“No. You can do it again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that John stubbed out his cigarette and leaned over the side of the bed to find his clothes. He sat up to start putting them on when Paul leaned up behind him.

“Don’t go,” Paul whispered, kissing John’s shoulder.

“What? Why?”

“I want you to stay. I want you to sleep here.”

John turned around to look at Paul.

“I thought we weren’t going to do that,” he said. “I thought we’d agreed. Just fooling around.”

“We did. But I want you to stay. It’s cold. Stay.”

John looked at Paul for a minute, contemplating. It had been Paul who'd set the rule about just fooling around, but if he wanted to change it John was happy to oblige. So he nodded agreement and lay back down in the bed. They arranged the covers over themselves, fussed a little about who would sleep where, then, finally, fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Paul woke first, the noise from the hotel heating system penetrating the fog of sleep. He lay in the dark relishing the feel of John in his arms. He was a little embarrassed about how much he enjoyed lying with John, how strong his feelings were towards John, but he didn’t care. Nobody knew what went on in the dark between them, and that suited them both just fine. Calling him Johnny had been a slip, though. It’s what he’d been calling John in his head for months now, but he’d never meant to say it out loud. It was a private name, a name that was meant to differentiate between John his partner and John his lover.

He’d finally come to accept that he and John really were lovers, not just mates fooling around. He wasn’t sure John had reached that point yet, but it didn’t matter. He would, eventually.

The thing was, Paul had finally realized that he wanted more from John. That he wanted to really be lovers. That he wanted to surrender completely to this bizarre attraction. That he wanted John as much as he’d ever wanted a bird. 

John would probably be skittish, he knew, but agreeing to sleep in the same bed was a good sign. Paul decided that tonight he’d finally try for more.

He let his hand move on John’s back, caressing him, feeling the hard muscle under the skin. Shifting his body slightly he started to kiss John’s hair, his temple, moved to nuzzle his neck. As he did John woke, murmuring acceptance as he felt Paul’s body moving under him. Paul moved down to kiss John’s mouth, gently, nudging John towards full consciousness. John began to kiss back, his own hands beginning to move on Paul’s body.

Soon, the kisses deepened, the touches became more insistent, their bodies began to respond and erections began to grow. John rolled over on top of Paul, his body moving in a rhythm that had become familiar to them both, hardened cocks rubbing against each other, but Paul stopped him.

“No,” he said, “not this, John. I want more.”

“More?”

Paul reached up and kissed John, wrapping arms and legs around him, holding him close. He moved his mouth to John’s ear and whispered.

“I want you, John. I want you completely. I want you inside me. I want to feel you come inside me.”

John pulled back and looked down at Paul, surprised.

“Really, Paul?"

Paul nodded, then pulled John close again.

“John, please," he whispered again, "Johnny. Fuck me, Johnny.”

John groaned and kissed Paul hard, the two of them rolling in the bed, bodies pressed close, then he broke the kiss and got out of bed.

“John?”

“Just stay there. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back. We need,” he gestured at Paul in the bed and over to the bathroom, “something.”

Paul nodded and lay back down. They’d discussed it, all of them, one drunken evening when they’d realized Brian was queer. Pooling information learned as adolescent boys whispering dirty little secrets in the back alleys of Liverpool. They knew they’d need lube, knew they’d need to go slowly, knew it might hurt, knew there was a spot that would make all the pain go away.

John came back from the bathroom clutching two bottles of lotion and a bar of soap.

“Soap, John? I don’t think so. I’m not quite ready to be your prison bitch.”

“Ah, yeah, well…I wasn’t sure if there’d be enough lotion, so…yeah.”

“Git. Come here.”

John crawled back into the bed with Paul and they paused for a minute, looking carefully at each other, each wondering if the other truly was ready to take this step, each knowing this would change things forever.

Then Paul took John’s face in his hands and kissed him.

“I want you, Johnny,” he whispered, “Take me. Don’t make me beg.”

With that John growled and took control. He kissed Paul, tongue probing his mouth, while his hands roamed Paul’s body. He moved his mouth down, licking a line down Paul’s neck, then his chest, then his belly. His hands stroked Paul’s erection, making Paul groan. Then he turned Paul over and sprawled across his back. His hands stroked and explored, his movements fluid, licking and nibbling down Paul’s spine. He moved so he lay between Paul’s legs, hands stroking Paul’s ass, tongue licking the inside of his thighs.

He reached over for a bottle of lotion and coated his fingers with it. Then, mouth against the base of Paul’s spine, breathing him, he inserted a finger into Paul. Paul gasped and groaned. John kept going, moving the finger, stretching Paul. When he felt Paul relax, he inserted a second and, eventually, a third. Paul’s groans began to turn from pain to pleasure as he got used to the feeling. John kept probing, searching for that spot he’d heard about, fucking Paul with his hand.

Suddenly, Paul’s breath caught in mid-groan, his body pushing back against John. John moved his fingers against the same place again and got the same reaction, this time accompanied by an oath from Paul. 

He removed his hand and reached again for the lotion. Coating his cock with it he leaned down over Paul.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, John, oh yes. I want you.”

John entered Paul, pushing against the resistance until he was buried inside him.

“Oh fuck. Paul. Jesus. So tight.”

“Johnny, please. Fuck me. Ride me. Please.”

John began to move inside Paul, faster, harder, listening as Paul lost control, gasping and calling out John’s name, begging him to fuck him more, begging him not to stop. He tried to stay in control himself, tried to be careful with Paul, tried to make sure his movements were smooth, tried to stay a little detached, but the sound of Paul gasping and groaning under him, the feel of his cock buried in Paul’s ass, the unfamiliar tightness, undid him and he finally lost it completely. He sank his teeth in Paul’s shoulder and rode him until they both came, crying out for each other, an orgasm unlike anything either had ever experienced before.

What seemed like eons later they rolled apart, lying on the pillows looking at each other. John reached out a hand and stroked Paul’s face.

“Paulie,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I understand now. Why you call me Johnny. And I love you too. Paulie.”


End file.
